


Chivalry Suits You, Arthur.

by camcamgirl



Category: The Tick (TV 2017), The Tick - All Media Types
Genre: I'm ruining the 90s, M/M, Never take off the suit, Oral, Tick might be an alien or something, friendship sex, sorrynotsorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 12:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13833909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camcamgirl/pseuds/camcamgirl
Summary: Arthur tries to lay his mack down in a consentual way. Dot gives good advice and likes bread-goods. Overkill is deeply damaged. I was a little stoned while writing this. Huzzah!





	Chivalry Suits You, Arthur.

This is delicate work.

Arthur gently grasps his hands around the Tick’s head - where his ears should be - sliding his thumbs along the place where skin meets suit.

The Tick smiles placidly, eyes happy to focus on Arthur. He holds Arthur’s hips as the mothman straddles him - seated on their threadbare mattress.

The first time, Arthur hadn’t been as gentle as he needed to be. His nerves had demanded that he fight before he could succumb to flight. Not good.

He’d tore at Tick’s suit to no avail, his partner had crinkled his brow in confusion. His suit hardened. Arthur nearly tore a nail off trying to remove it.

&&&&&

“Maybe he’s shy?” His sister Dot mused while she tore off pieces of croisant and dabbed them with butter. 

“What? Why would his- “

“He’s all about defense. Maybe his suit defends, his…. Virtue?”

“What.” 

Cups clatter against saucers around them, the coffee shop smells like pumpkin spice.

&&&&&

But this time the suit gives, and Arthur sighs as he slide both thumbs under the mask and against the Tick’s cheekbones. Or whatever they are.

The moth suit stays on, that’s clear now. Back when he’d grown impatient and torn his own clothes off - it had been a signal of some kind, for the tick to clam up like a caterpillar in his blue cocoon. Multiple tries over two weeks later, and Arthur realized that the Tick couldn’t recognize him as well out of the suit. So Arthur just unzips it a little and guides his partner’s large hand to caress the skin he can afford to free.

&&&&&

“It’s all about vulnerability, Arthur.” This time, she’s tearing into a gas station eclair. 

“But, he’s - “

“‘Nigh invulnerable,’ I know. But this is most likely a mental block. I’m just guessing.” Dot shrugged apologetically. Her profession barely covered psychiatry.

Arthur thinks about how he’s react if he was attacked on a regular basis. He is, though. He doesn’t have to imagine very hard. Even though he’s over being terrified all the time … his reflexes still respond very quickly. Even if no one is actually attacking him.

&&&&&

Arthur shifts forward, pressing his body against muscled stomach. 

It’s very nice.

He presses the blue cowl back with his fingers and reveals dark hair that springs back from the press of latex. Ears appear, and the tendon of a humanoid neck. The tick blinks and smiles as Arthur pulls his cowl free and lets it fall against his back. Oddly, the antennas remain attached to his head - quirking in interest at Arthur’s touch.

The Tick takes a sharp breath when Arthur slides his fingers down his neck, now bare and sensitive from being protectively coated for so long. 

Arthur had been so surprised to find the Suit was part of the Tick. It clung to him at will and an unconscious desire to not ever feel pain. Arthur can relate.

He kisses each plane of flesh that’s revealed. 

“ - Arthur!”

The Suit can live separately from Tick for a short time - long enough for this.

More blue is peeled away and Arthur joyfully rubs his thumbs over dips where muscles overlap, and over charmingly pink nipples. The Tick’s hands tighten on his moth’s hips and tug him closer - the larger hero looks surprised at what he’s done.

“Is this still okay, Tick?” 

Arthur holds his breath.

Tick smiles, bemused and mussed - his newly revealed hair arcing in several directions. “My friend, I don’t think it’s ever been so ‘okay’ as this.”

The held breath comes out as a huffed laugh. Arthur tilts his head and leans - always to the left, just to make it clear what is happening - and the Tick meets his mouth with enthusiasm. This was the first intimate thing they’d agreed on, outside of their regular partnership. 

Although Arthur was forced to regularly redefine his definition of regular. 

Tick’s stronger tongue meets his own, pressing and sliding enthusiastically. A firm blue paw slides from his hip down round to grasp at Arthur’s ass. He gasps and bucks, breaking their kiss to stare into Tick’s eyes. Antennae brush Arthur’s face, gently pushing through his curly hair.

Arthur swallows. The Tick’s pupils are blown and focused intently on Arthur’s mouth. He can feel the unmistakable shape of a large cock through the remaining bottom half of the Suit. 

They have talked about this, but Arthur needs to check again.

&&&&&

“Just throw him to the ground and go to Pound Town on his blue ass.” With his left arm wrapped around Dot’s shoulders, Overkill casually gestures with his beer. 

“You, are disgusting.” Dot looked put off, but not surprised. A waitress sets a purple drink in from of her, then magically whisks away two similar glasses. 

“What? He’ll love it. He’s a guy.” Overkill shrugs - exaggerated in his nonchalance. 

“Says the guy who wouldn’t let anyone touch him for fifteen years. Confused much?”

Overkill wishes he’d kept that to himself.

Arthur sees that even though Overkill seems heavily draped over his sister like a protective panther, the arch of his side and strain of muscle in his neck betrayed that he was carefully hovering. Arthur wondered if Dot could even feel the weight. Could she see Overkill’s chivalry as clearly as Arthur could?

&&&&&

“Tick! Tick,” Arthur moaned as he pulled back just a little from the eager mouth along his collarbone. 

The Suit is down to his blue friend’s waist, ready to pass the V-cuts under his hips.

“I need to know if you want to keep going…” 

The Tick smiles dopily. His hand slides down to wrap around Arthur’s own. He guides the smaller hand, helping to push the remaining blue down his hips and down his legs - letting it fall to the floor and crawl under the bed to wait in a safe, dark place for him. Not needed, not right now. 

Arthur sinks to his knees and rewards himself with an aching jaw.

***********************

Almost a month of patience later, and Arthur is laid back against a nest of cushions as Tick gently holds his partner’s knees up and apart and presses in with a grin that collapses into - 

“Oh, Arthur.”

The suit takes to contentedly hiding under Arthur’s discarded wings.


End file.
